The Half-Blood Games
by immafullait22
Summary: "Welcome to the 24th quinquennial Half-Blood Games!" Some games are easy, some are challenging. And some are made to lose. May the odds be ever in your favor. WARNING: Character deaths.
1. Preface

**The Half-Blood Games**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Heroes of Olympus series or any of it's characters. They belong to the brilliant troll himself, Rick Riordan (so much trolololol). I do, however, own Emily and her friends (who are simply there for story purpose), and Lily, Amaira, and Temperance (OCs for this fandom that I will use in the future).**

**I also do not own The Hunger Games.**

**Chapter 1. Preface (Nico)**

The children of Camp Half-Blood danced and laughed in the summer sun. I watched children of Apollo beat everyone on the court or at the archery station. The Hephaestus bunch were making an assortment of tiny little machines and setting them loose. Hermes children were pranking, and a bubbly group of Aphrodite spawn giggled and gossiped nearby. I watched from the porch of The Big House. Watching new generations of demigods grow and learn has been keeping the last of my sanity together for years.

"Nico?"

I looked to my right. Emily Henderson was standing nearby, backed up by a small cluster of her friends. Emily was fourteen years of age, and a daughter of Hades. My half-sister.

"Yes, Emily?"

She hesitated, like she was not sure if she wanted to say what she was about to say. But she spoke up: "One of the older kids said something about a thing called "The Half-Blood Games." They said you'd know what they were. What are the Half-Blood Games, Nico?"

For a moment, I was a teenager again. I could see weapons flashing, I could hear the last screams of dying tributes, I could smell blood and dirt, all with perfect clarity. 'Twenty-four will go in, only one will come out alive. May the odds be ever in your favor.' Then that moment ended, and I could now see the curious children in front of me, could now hear the faint laughter of other demigods, could now smell the grass and the fresh air.

"The Half-Blood Games? They aren't supposed to talk about that. And there's nothing to tell. It was a long time ago."

They objected, the group of them. In my youth, I used to really hate other children. They were irritating to me. But this group of children, two children of Zeus, two of Poseidon, one of Hades, and one of Apollo. This group of children would always be my favorites. I guess that's why I decided to give in.

"Alright, alright. I'll tell you," I said over their whining voices.

They all piped down, and sat on the porch at my feet. I sighed heavily.

"The Half-Blood Games was a competition, made by our godly parents, to ... put us demigods in our place. One son and one daughter of each god and goddess, Roman or Greek, would be chosen to participate; in the case of Artemis, it was two of her Hunters. The twenty-four tributes were put into an arena, and had to ... fight. To the death."

My voice broke at the end. They all gasped, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. "That's horrible." Emily murmured. I nodded, and she added, "You won your Games, Nico?"

I gulped heavily, then nodded again. Memories came back, crystal clear. I gripped the arms of my chair.

"Yes, I won. It was hard, though. I lost my friends and my sister in my Games."

"Will you tell us more? About your Games?"

I looked them over. They were all waiting for me to tell the story. I decided that if it scares them, it's their faults. They were all over thirteen, and they asked. With a sigh, I began:

"I was thirteen years old..."

**A/N: I'm back, baby! I had tons and tons of writers block, but this isn't too terrible, so I thought I'd throw it up on here. **

**There are OCs in this story. Most are for story purposes, but also, a few are my OCs for this fandom. I will be writing a different fanfic based around them...eventually.**

There WILL be character deaths in this (obviously). I'm NOT kidding (duh). If you can't handle your favorite characters dying off, you should leave. Like, right now. I don't take haters, but if they come, then I will ignore. Because I don't care. 

**Trust me guys. This isn't the least bit easy on me. I hate killing characters. Especially ones I love. But I thought this was turning out well and I have big plans for it.**

**I will not post regularly. So don't expect a new chapter every [insert time limit here]. I don't work like that. **

**What else...oh. If you're following "Babysitting a Colour Changing Monster," I am SO SO SO SO SORRY. Seriously. I hate abandoning fanfiction, so I will try harder.**

**Enough rambling for now. I hope you guys like it!**


	2. Very Last Moment

**Chapter 2. Annabeth**

The soft gray ceiling looks stormy in the darkness. The sun hadn't risen yet; I could hear my siblings' deep breathing, with the occasional snore. Sitting up, I glanced around at the others. They were all sleeping restlessly, their blond hair messy, with shadows under each and every pair of eyes. I could blame them for their agitated feelings; it was, after all, the day of the Reaping.

I slipped out of bed carefully, jamming my feet into my sneakers. Through the window, the horizon was just lightening. I judged by the amount of light, and the time on the digital clock, 4:45, I had about twenty minutes to a half an hour. That was more than enough time. I started towards the door silently.

"Annabeth?"

Temperance was sitting up in bed. From where I was, she looked exhausted, but no matter how tired she felt right then, it was more than likely that she wasn't going back to sleep. But it was still worth a shot. I sighed, tip-toeing back over to sit on the edge of her bed.

"Temp, go back to sleep."

"What if they pick me?" Her gray eyes were as wide as tennis balls now. They had lost their usual brightness in the past few days.

I shook my head, "There are so many other names in there, you can't think like that."

I knew why she was worried. No one wants to get picked at the reaping, and no one wants to die. But aside from that, Temperance may have been smart and a strategist - like all Athena children - but she wasn't much of a fighter, and she hated killing things. Even squashing bugs was hard for her.

"I don't want the younger ones to go in either. And you-"

"Don't worry about me Temperance," I hushed, "Just go back to sleep."

I sat with her and hummed until her eyes closed again. When I was sure she was asleep, careful not to wake her, I snuck back to the door and let myself out, shutting it soundlessly. A quick glance across the center told me no one was up yet; at least, not out of their cabins. Still, quiet as a mouse, I started across the grass.

There were 12 cabins at Camp, shaped like a U. One for each of the gods, in each, their children resided. Twelve cabins, a dozen pairs of tributes. Twenty-four young demigods, between twelve and eighteen years of age, chosen to fight to death in an arena. The whole event televised. And for what? Food and prizes. Glory. It was sickening.

Most of the tributes were of Greek heritage. Though, as of the last games, there were also some Roman kids. The Roman kids did not have their own games, as far as I knew, but some liked to come and try their luck at ours. The thought was absolutely nauseating. There were a few Roman kids who said that they only come to lower the chances of some of the Greek kids, which wasn't as repugnant. Those few kids were the ones I appreciated. And of course, there were the few that were required to come.

I made it across the green to Cabin 3. Tapping on the door softly, I waited. The wait wasn't lengthy. The door swung open smoothly, and I was pulled in by my wrist, a soft click following me as the door shut once more.

"Wise Girl," Percy whispered brokenly.

I clung to him, shushing him softly. I didn't want to talk about the Reaping or the Games. Tributes, fighting, glory. None of it mattered anymore. With Percy, I could let it sink to the back of my mind. Percy was my boyfriend. Ever since last year, when he kissed me underwater in the lake, we'd been official. After four years of friendship, he was finally mine, and I was his. That was what mattered.

Percy kissed me, softly and tenderly, making my heart flutter. I kissed back, never wanting to let go. The kiss soon became passionate, full of need. Neither of us wanted this moment to end. But it had to eventually, and sure enough the end came right then.

"Look," we broke apart at the sound of the voice. Percy's half-sister, Lily, "I know you two are dating and all that, but can you not play tonsil-hockey in front of me? Thanks."

Percy sighed, but held me tight still, regardless of his sister's words. He looked even more bone-weary than my siblings. I knew the reason for that, no matter how much I didn't want it to be true.

Percy, just like his sister, just like other kids of the big three, was an Inevitable. Inevitables were most often children of the Big Three. They were either the only child or only two children of their parent, from both Greek and Roman forms. Inevitables didn't have a choice. They didn't have any more siblings to back them up. They were required to enter the Games. Of course, the gods had a different name for it. Honorables.

That meant that I could lose Percy.

He must've seen my fear in my expression, because he swept some loose strands of hair from my face and told me that everything would be alright. I didn't like when he said that. "Everything will be alright." Even if Percy did win, he would have to kill off other tributes. His own camp-mates. His own friends. He might even have to kill his own sister, the other Inevitable from the Poseidon cabin.

"Don't tell me that, Percy. You know as well as I do that nothing is going to be alright." I objected to his comfort, my blood beginning to boil.

Percy sighed heavily, but didn't argue. I softened at that, settling back into his arms with my head against his chest. I didn't want to worry about it right now. Neither did Percy, who simply hugged me into him and rested his chin on my head. We didn't speak anymore. And when Lily slipped out quietly, we kissed again, living in the moment.

Because after the Reaping, there was unlikely to be another moment.


End file.
